


Neuralised for a Reason

by KindListener



Category: Men in Black (Movies)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Other, Tentacle Monsters, Tentacles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-17
Updated: 2019-06-17
Packaged: 2020-05-13 13:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19252246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KindListener/pseuds/KindListener
Summary: What really happened at the top of the Eiffel Tower, back in 2016.





	Neuralised for a Reason

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [[MIB] Invasion （pwp）](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19250995) by [lesliecaviezel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lesliecaviezel/pseuds/lesliecaviezel). 



T hates Paris. Not the people. Not the food. Not even the politics. Just the intergalactic wormhole that happens to spear through the Eiffel Tower. They take the elevator up, sending another couple back down (for safety reasons, of course, and not because the Eiffel Tower is an overdone place to propose) before setting for the very top.

The tentacles of the Hive pierce the heavy, steel barrier into the wormhole and begin to seep in. Blacker than night, the Hive sloshes in, taking out light fixtures as it goes. Each shot from the 7-Series annihilators make the beast hiss in retaliation, the tentacles grabbing them by the ankles and another few confiscating their pistols. Shoved to the back of the room, H groans as his head connects with the hard brick of the wall behind him.  
“H!” A slick tentacle worms under his collar, feeling at the skin, plagued with a cold sweat, under the material.  
“D-Don't worry, T. I'll be... I'll be fine.” The younger agent yells back but T soldiers on, grabbing a backup gun from his hip and continuing to shoot at the tentacles that hold H in place. Furiously, a tentacle slides from the beast, forcing him to his knees. "T, are you...?" Breathless, H forces the words out and they come out choked.

A tendril slides down the inside of H's collar, exploring the vast plates of muscle at his pectorals and flicking at his nipples, the cold fluid secreted making the buds harden and grow more sensitive. A tentacle curls around the fabric of his trouser waistband, tearing them down to reveal his tight, white briefs, it's almost playful, licking at the head of his hardening length. H can do nothing but turn his head away as his cheeks darken, feeling T's eyes on him as he gets corrupted by the Hive. Yet, with his high sex drive, he finds it difficult not to react to the tendrils reaching into his briefs and curling around the base of his cock.  
“H...” The agent he once saw as a son is stripped, bare, before him, revealing acres of tanned skin, interrupted only by snaking veins that stand out, against the muscle.

A tendril crawls up the leg of T's suit, feeling the growing arousal that, subconsciously, had begun to thicken at the slow reveal of H's generously muscled body. The mature agent jolts back as a tentacle coils around his throat, pulling back to extend its access to his body. The translucent slime they produce make his shirt go wet and cling to his skin. Claustrophobic and hopeless, T falls against the tendrils, one finding his mouth and sliding between his lips.  
“T! Please, you have to—“ H's speech is cut off, abruptly. as a slick appendage is shoved down his throat. T watches, through lust-hazed eyes, as H has his mouth violated by the tentacles. He knows he has to fight. Has to defeat the Hive. Has to save H.

He tries to get to his feet, the tentacle dragging him back down, into the concrete. Adrenaline kicks in and he makes it to his feet, managing to sprint a few meters before his legs are brought out from under him, his face meeting the ground with a sharp thud.  
“H! Please, stay strong.” He sighs as tendrils coil around his ankles and drag him back.

Oxygen running low, H's movements slow and come to a stop. His struggling stops as the tentacles slide against his cock. His eyelids droop as he begins to pass out-- But, then, his lungs are full of oxygen but he's fully restrained.  
“Let go of—“ The first few centimetres of a small tendril slide into his urethra. "That's not supposed to-- T!" He yells, his screams cut off by the entrance of a tentacle in his mouth, again. Another crawls around the swell of his throat, feeling his breaths rise and fall with the laboured breath of the agent.

“H...” T breathes, slowly, watching his fellow agent fall to the floor, unconscious, due to lack of oxygen. Now, the Hive only has one target. All tentacles surge to him, enveloping his wrists, ankles, throat, waist, everything, every square inch of skin plagued with sensation. Everything is squirming, clammy pleasure, forcing the mature agent to lose his decency and follow his instincts, groaning and sighing in unadulterated pleasure. Wet appendages wind into his body, spearing nearly every orifice. The Hive hums in appreciation, burying tendrils into him. A pliant body. One that would serve them well.

They let T fall to the ground, writhing on the floor, his MIB issued suit torn in places. With the sudden loss of all sensation, he lets a breath go. He's too old for this. Maybe H could withstand all this, could enjoy the feeling of the alien appendages over his hardened flesh. He would.

A tendril snakes against his thigh, spreading dark slime against his leg. Tentacles tie themselves in knots, just trying to reach T's vulnerable body. His low, breathy moans echo in the room as he succumbs to the pleasures of the Hive.

In the tattered ruins of his suit, T writhes against the tentacles as they coil at the base of his length. They pump against him a couple of times, feeling him shiver and tremble. Again, a slender appendage slides into the slit at the head and he jerks at the breach. His legs quiver as the tentacle slides deeper and deeper into him, a much larger one preparing to spear his behind. The tip slides in relatively easy but the appendage is so long and grows increasingly thick.  
“God, yes...” T sighs, his body growing so hot, so dangerously warm. It curls; the head of the thicker tentacle finding his prostate. T cries out, his voice hoarse and low. Electric shoots down his spine as his climax tears through him, the Hive milking him for all he has. His breathing goes shallow, air coming in gasps.

T shudders as the tendrils pull closer, closing around his nose and mouth, his body too exhausted to fight back anymore. The Hive claims him and it takes no longer than a handful of moments. He gets to his feet, studying his partner, who’s only just waking up. Leaning down, T helps H off the ground, leaning him against the wall behind him. T presses a curious kiss to H’s lips, feeling the soft flesh against his own. H, though only just conscious, cups the back of T’s neck, bringing him closer.  
“T.”  
“H.” The senior breathes against his lips. He’s so close, his young flesh beckoning, taunting. He kisses H, again, longer this time, pulling at his hair and feeling the bulge growing at the front of his suit pants. “I’ve seen the way you look at me.” T whispers, placing a kiss to H’s throat, the younger man’s arms hooking over his shoulders. “Let’s get back to HQ.”

They get back to the car, with T’s help. He assists H getting into the back so he can pass out and lie down if he wants but T gets into the other seat, in the back, moving to press his lips to H’s. His fingers thread into his hair, the younger man groaning as he feels another hand press to the front of his pants.  
“T, I’ve always... Always respected you, always worked for you, always wanted you.” He takes initiative and wraps his arms around T’s shoulder bringing him closer, straddling the older man. The car windows steam up as H fumbles with the tattered scraps of T’s suit, finding his erect cock, easily. His fingers curl around the organ and T groans against his lips.

_No, no, no. H, please, no..._

“So soft, so young.” T bites against his throat, watching red marks appear before his eyes, H’s fingers curling tighter around his dick as he bites and sucks at his neck. “You’re so beautiful, H.” He murmurs, his voice low and so genuine. His hands squeeze at H’s backside, feeling the thick muscle beneath the skin. H, quickly, does away with his suit pants and briefs, displaying his own girthy cock. Spitting into his palm, T slicks up his dick, getting it ready for H. The corrupted agent guides his subordinate’s hips to his own, seating him, carefully, on his cock.  
“T, it’s too—”  
“Shhh.” He hushes, softly, giving H time to sink onto it.

_H, please. You can’t..._

It stretches him out, hits all the right spots, and H is in the stars. T helps him ride it, crooking his hips to hit just the right spot inside the younger agent. A broad palm wraps around H’s leaking cock and he whines.  
“T, don’t. I’m going to come so quick.” He sighs but the older man shakes his head, leaning it into the crook of H’s neck.  
“Don’t worry, H.” He purrs, his hand jerking faster, his other hand driving H further onto his cock. “You can come.” With T’s permission, H spends himself, a strangled moan leaving him. Stars explode behind his eyes as he rides out his orgasm, trapped between T’s hand and his cock. Shuddering and light-headed, H tumbled to the side, falling to the other seat, in the back of the car.  
“Oh, fuck, T...” He sighs, dreamily. “That was great...”

_Oh, my boy. What have I done to you...?_

T reaches into the pocket, behind the front passenger seat, pulling out a fresh suit for H and one for himself.  
“Get yourself dressed, H. We can’t get back to HQ with you looking like that.” He smiles, softly, as H leans in to kiss him, one last time. It takes them a hot minute to get changed in the cramped, humid space of the car but, eventually, it’s like nothing ever happened.

T grabs the neuraliser and his shades from his pocket.  
“H? Look right here, please.” He does and there’s a flash. A moment of silence as H registers his situation; his suit freshly pressed, his body still thrumming with distant pleasure from... What was he doing?  
“T... Did we get them?” His voice is weak and he looks disorientated.  
“We got them, H. With only our wits and our Series-7 anihilators.”


End file.
